


The Green-Eyed Monster

by AthenaFangGranger26



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Superheroing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15343356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaFangGranger26/pseuds/AthenaFangGranger26
Summary: The City needs more heroes.Especially when a rift suddenly comes between the only two it has. Jackieboy Man and his new friend, Miss Olympus, find themselves quickly on rocky ground. Miss Olympus is acting weird, Jackieboy is juggling an alter-ego with suddenly ailing fans, and, on top of all that, the two are trapped in a web of lies that neither can seem to escape.All thanks to a single green-eyed monster.





	1. The Last Normal Night

**Author's Note:**

> Seems I can't write a single thing without an original character propping up to steal the damn show. And yeah, she's called Athena. It's my default protagonist name, all right? I'll try to still make this interesting enough.

         The City is particularly quiet tonight. For once, the sirens are silent, there are no screams or cries for help. Most view this as a blessing, sure; but in the life of a superhero no crime meant no work to be done.

         Even still, a quiet evening for heroes is still plenty welcome. Quiet evenings meant the City stays beautiful. Without the wailing sirens and flashing police lights, the gentle glow of the City’s streetlights is so much nicer.

         Nice enough, even, to get some heroes to simply relax and take in the beauty.

         Such as one young woman sitting at the top of the tallest building in the City. Despite the dizzying height, the woman casually hangs her feet over the edge of the building’s roof. Her boots tap lightly against the side of the building. She would look carefree if not for the skintight, black suit that covered her entire body. The pale navy skirt wrapped neatly around her waist blows lightly in the breeze.

         The young woman would be the perfect picture of serenity, if it were not for the convenience store burrito in her hand. The tinfoil crinkles loudly in the quiet night air.

         “Late again,” she mumbles to no one in particular.

         And as if on cue, her enhanced hearing picks up a very familiar sound.

          _THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!_

“Still late,” the woman shakes her head.

         Tardiness aside, her colleague was generally reliable. Strange he may be, but she liked him.

         The young woman pulls her legs up onto the building’s edge, just as another figure swings up next to her. Viscous green slime splatters onto the concrete. Quickly following the slime is a blue gloved hand the slime is attached to. The rest of the man scrambles the rest of the way up the ledge.

         His name is Jackieboy Man and he has, by far, the strangest fashion sense ever. The man’s superhero suit consists of a blazing red jumpsuit. The only other spots of color in his costume are long cobalt gloves and the mask that covers his eyes. A red hood covers only some of his head. Vibrant green hair sticks out the front of the hood, splaying out in an eye-catching poof.

         The strangest part of Jackieboy Man’s costume though is the eyeball shaped belt wrapped around his waist. The green eye’s color matched his hair, with a single blue iris that stared out. Jackieboy called the belt Sammy; and for good reason too.

         “Right on time,” Jackieboy grins as he plops himself down beside the young woman.

         “Ten minutes late,” the young woman rolls her eyes.

         “Look, I was finishing up work for the day, all right.” Jackieboy puts his hands up. “Took longer than I thought, okay?”

         When the young woman simply gives him a withering look, Jackieboy laughs. It’s a bubbly boisterous sound that has him leaning back and holding his stomach. He stops and scratches at the beard wrapping around his chin.

         “Okay, okay. But you can’t tell me that you, the _great_ Miss Olympus, has never been late before. _Ever_.”

         The young woman, Miss Olympus, tries to hold her scolding frown, but it cracks, and she finds herself grinning at her comrade.

         “I mean,” Miss Olympus says, “tardiness can be easily forgiven in exchange for snacks.”

         Jackieboy laughs again. He’s already reaching for the leather satchel around his shoulder.

         “Uh-huh, you think pizza will make everything better?”

         “Didn’t you say that once?”

         “Yeah, uh-huh.”

         Miss Olympus laughs. “Gimme.”

         “Bossy.”

         “Asshole.”

         “Bitch.”

         “Doof.”

         Jackieboy laughs. “Nerd.” But he’s already reaching inside the satchel. He pulls out a surprisingly intact pizza box. The logo on the top shows a rotund Italian looking fellow holding a very greasy slice of pepperoni pizza.

         He sets the box down between them. Opening it slowly, he hums a dramatic melody as he unveils the pizza. Pale yellow pineapple tidbits and slices of ham litter the greasy, cheesy pizza.

         “Bitchin’,” Miss Olympus grins as she reaches for a piece.

         The two sit together happily, munching on pizza and chatting idly. Miss Olympus has pulled her amber goggles down over her eyes. Scanning her gaze over the city, the golden glass ticks off any points of interest.

         “Anything?” Jackieboy asks.

         “Nope.” She pops the _p_ in response, scowling. “Heard anything from Pixl?”

         “Nah. He says it’s all quiet.”

         Miss Olympus sighs. She pushes the goggles back up on her forehead, mucking up her cobalt stained bangs. Leaning back on the heels of her hands, she glances over at Jackieboy.

         “Y’know, I know we should be happy that the City’s criminals decided to be quiet this evening, but something feels off.”

         “It’s _too_ quiet,” Jackieboy chuckles, waggling his eyebrows beneath his vibrant hair.

         Miss Olympus playfully punches her friend’s shoulder. She rolls her eyes, but chuckles as well. “Yes, _too_ quiet.”

         Jackieboy Man sobers slightly then. He frowns, scrubbing at his beard again. “But, yeah, something’s definitely weird.”

         Both heroes glance between them at the empty pizza box; Miss Olympus picks idly at a stray piece of pineapple. If neither her goggles, nor the man in Jackieboy’s ear, could find any crime for them to stop; then that meant their evening is quickly coming to a close. Not that Miss Olympus wanted the night to end.

         That meant going back to the _real_ world.

         As if prompted by her very thoughts, Jackieboy gets to his feet. He stretches widely.

         “Welp,” he finally says, listening to his bones crackle as he stretches. “If no one’s gonna come out to play with us tonight, I think I’m heading home.”

         Miss Olympus slowly stands as well. “More work tonight?”

         “Maybe,” he shrugs. “You?”

         She shrugs too. “Dunno. Netflix sounds pretty fantastic.”

         Jackieboy grins. “Fair. Well, see you later, Miss Olympus.”

         With an over the top wave, Jackieboy Man steps casually off the edge of the roof. As he disappears from sight, Miss Olympus hears a sound she’s long come to associate with her super friend.

          _THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!_

         And as she steps to the edge of the building, Miss Olympus watches the silhouette of Jackieboy Man swing away, out of sight.

         “Goodnight, Jackie.”

         In the silence on the roof, a single cobalt owl dives toward the street below.

 

          The cobalt owl swoops down into the dark end of town. Streetlights flicker as the owl passes by. The only sounds in this end of the City are the occasional dog bark or a shattering bottle from the rather unsavory things going on in the alleyways.

          A tiny apartment complex on the edge of the district is about the only building that doesn’t look completely seedy. An equally tiny window on the fourth floor sits open. The only one daring enough to leave the window open in this part of town, the cobalt owl spirals through the open window.

          No one turns to watch the strange occurrence, but that’s just fine, as once inside, the owl is no longer an owl.

          Miss Olympus stands stoic in the darkened apartment. Her head hangs as she strolls through the cluttered studio flipping on lamps as she goes. She yanks the band from her hair.

          “Welcome home,” she mumbles to the empty house. “Glad to see you. How was your evening?”

          Not a single sound answers her questions. Not that she expected any response. The place is always empty, always.

          “My evening was fan-fucking-tastic, thanks.”

          Her voice snaps at the empty air as her sluggish body slumps across the room. She should be used to the loneliness by now. A few taps at her wristband causes the blue and ebony suit to melt away. Leaving behind only a scarred woman in shabby pajamas.

          Stopping briefly in front of the full-length mirror, her silver eyes glance over the thin white lines and blotches marking her skin. Scars no ordinary woman would have.

          The scars of an _outsider_.

          “Exactly as you are, Athena,” the young woman whispers.

          Because that tired looking woman in the mirror is nothing like Miss Olympus. And she probably never will be.

 

          Jackieboy Man on the other hand easily swings across the City. His sticky slime ropes cling to the edges of rooftops and he uses the momentum when they grow taut to propel himself through the air. Sometimes he wants to whoop with joy; swinging from place to place was just too fun.

          Just one of the many perks of being a superhero.

          Not that he’d ever treat it that way. Being Jackieboy Man is a huge responsibility. He has a city to track care of. Of course, Miss Olympus helps out a literal ton.

          She’s quite possibly his polar opposite. Where he is all about loud and wild crime fighting with whipping slime ropes and flipping over foes; Miss Olympus is absolutely the opposite. She’d rather sneak around, slinking from one hiding spot to another, changing her shape every other moment.

          They compliment each other. Surprisingly.

          Jackieboy Man finds himself grinning as he finally slows his swing. His apartment always seems to come up faster than he expects. He left his office’s window open tonight considering he has to sneak back into his own house. The only sneaking he does all day.

          Cutting his latest slime rope short, Jackieboy Man clings to the outside of his apartment building. His sticky footsteps are silent as he crawls inside.

          A soft sigh escapes him as he stands up on the other side. The soft soundproof padding on the walls feels like home. Always does. Pacing over toward the desk against the far wall, Jackieboy Man reaches up and pulls off his mask.

          The little blue strip of fabric comes away easily. As he pulls it away, the rest of his outfit begins to fade away. The crimson jumpsuit vanishes in place of a worn t-shirt and black skinny jeans. Even the wild poof of green hair fades back to the normal dark chocolate he usually sees in the mirror. The only item that remains is the vibrant green belt that clatters to the floor.

          “Oops, sorry Sam. Forgot to take you off first again.”

          He places the belt up on the desk, amongst the impressive display of computer technology. After a moment, the eye on the belt’s buckle blinks. The rest of the belt shivers, thinning and twisting into a tiny tail. The little eyeball blinks up at Jackieboy. It hums a happy tune.

          “Yeah, you’re right. We’ve still got a little time to record.”

          Jackieboy sets himself up at the desk, opening various programs. After a few moments he seems satisfied and turns to the nearby camera that blinks a little red light back at him.

          He swings his open hand wildly in front of him.

          “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, laddies. My name is Jacksepticeye and welcome back to _Welcome to the Game_.”

         

          Little do Athena and Jack know though, that this will be their last normal evening for a long while.


	2. City Bank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the action of the day interrupts Athena's schedule, she's understandably relieved. But something is off. Something doesn't feel right.

          The next morning begins just as it should. Athena wakes to the shrill screaming of her phone’s alarm. Time for class. She rises slowly, going through her daily routine, all ending with standing fully dressed in front of her mirror again.

          Her sweatshirt and jeans are baggy. Ragged, scuffed leather boots peek out from beneath her jeans. With lazy fingers, Athena pulls her long chestnut hair into a spiraling ponytail. She brushes through her bangs. Sometimes it’s stranger now to see herself without Miss Olympus’s trademark blue streaks than to see herself with them.

          Goes to show how much this superhero shit has permeated her whole life.

          Not that she’s complaining.

          Lastly, she straps a pale black bracelet around her left wrist. It looks like nothing to the ignorant, but it’s actually one of her most prized possessions. Without it, Miss Olympus really couldn’t exist at all.

          “Back to the real world,” she mutters to her reflection.

          There’s a darkness to her somber tone that startles her. While the real world generally lacked an excitement she only got from Miss Olympus; she never felt any malice against it. Well, no _real_ malice anyway.

          So, where had that sudden pang of anger come from?

          Athena blinks at her reflection. Huh. Weird. Then, she shrugs. She ought to get going. She’s going to be late. She could reflect on this all later. Heh, _reflect_.

          Chuckling to herself at her little pun, Athena makes her way downtown. The tiny community college she attends is smack dab in the middle of the City. Colloquially called the Triple C, due to its official title being the City Community College, the little building is fairly popular to those of all ages.

          Athena is just one part of the school’s impressive arts program. Whether she felt she belonged or not. She hefts her bookbag a little higher on her shoulder as she jogs across the parking lot. She nods and smiles at the people she passes, even if the smiles don’t reach her eyes.

          As she slides into her seat, a familiar figure plops down beside her. A young man with gold hair and darker eyes. He smiles softly at her, pulling a notebook out of his backpack.

          “Good morning, ‘Thene,” he says.

          “Is it, Gregg? Is it?” Athena mumbles, retrieving her own textbook and notes.

          Gregg sits back, folding his fingers behind his head. He squints at Athena despite the wolfish grin still plastered to his face. “Geez, who shit in your cereal?” He shrugs. “Any morning with sunshine and no gunshots the night before is a grand morning to me.”

          Athena shrugs, just as the professor comes in. The history professor looked every bit the part with his crisp white polo and khakis, and his well-kempt dark hair.

          “Didn’t see those vigilantes out and about last night,” Gregg ponders aloud. “Guess they didn’t have much to do either.”

          “Everyone deserves a break once in a while, I suppose,” Athena taps her pencil against her text as she cocks an eyebrow at her acquaintance.

          “Even superheroes?” Gregg mimics her expression.

          “Even superheroes,” Athena nods.

          The City’s opinion of Miss Olympus and Jackieboy Man was always fluctuating. It never could decide if it wanted or needed them. At least, they generally didn’t sick the police on them. The cops tended to be grateful when a criminal showed up incapacitated on their doorstep.

          Gregg shrugs in response. He turns back to the front of the room as the professor calls the class to order. Side conversations die down so the lecture begins. Athena wishes she could force herself to pay closer attention to his words. She likes history classes plenty, but sometimes her brain just isn’t in it.

          The longer the professor drones on about wars and fighting and politics, the more Athena’s mind wanders. A prickling, gnawing pain starts to pulse in her temple. It flares with ever beat of her heart.

          Her fingers twirl her pencil, trying desperately to keep from tapping it obnoxiously. There’s a restless energy that emanates from the pulsing in her brain. Athena screws up her eyes, squeezing them shut. She presses the heel of her hand into the side of her head.

          She didn’t get migraines.

          So, what the _hell_ is this?

          She has to leave. She’s going to implode. Or explode. Or something!

          As if on cue, the tiny light on her wristband glows blue. Of all the times for Miss Olympus to be needed. Miss Olympus is just the remedy this restlessness needed. Now, just to slip out of class.

          “Shit,” Athena whispers, covering her wristband with her palm.

          “Problem?” Gregg breathes without turning his head from the lecture.

          Athena breathes out a sigh. She shakes her head. “Yeah, just got a message from the fam. Emergency.”

          “Gotta jet?”

          “Yeah, probably should. Take notes for me?”

          Gregg turns enough to give Athena a wolfish grin. “Dude, I don’t even take notes for me.”

          “I’ll pay you five bucks,” Athena feels the ingenuine smirk on her lips.

          “Ten, and you gotta deal.”

          Thank God. She didn’t have time to bargain with Gregg. She needed to be gone like five minutes ago. Gregg’s a sweetheart most of the time. Athena just doesn’t have the patience for his shit today.

          “Thanks, you’re a doll. See you tomorrow.”

          Athena waits a few moments for the professor to turn around to face the whiteboard, and then she’s slipping her bookbag over her shoulder and slipping right out the classroom door. With her hands free, she pulls a tiny black device out of her wristband and presses it into her left ear. She gives it a tap or two as she makes her way outside. There’s a soft click and then Athena hears the faint, but distinct whoosh of passing out.

          “Jackie?”

          There’s a brief pause that Athena uses to throw her bookbag in her car and start walking towards a nearby alleyway. Then the whooshing dies down and a familiar voice echoes in her head.

          “Miss O? Goddamn, was starting to think you weren’t joining the party. What held you up?”

          The air must mean Jackieboy is swinging his way to wherever shit is going down. Athena skids to a halt once she’s sufficiently hidden in the shadows of the alleyway. She presses her palm down on her wristband.

          “Doesn’t matter; what’s going on?”

          Slowly, thin black material crawls up Athena’s arm, originating from the wristband. The material spreads up her shoulder, down her torso, her legs. The material shifts cobalt around her throat, the pale colored patch building a plunging triangle down her torso. A leather belt wraps itself around her waist, sprouting a long, equally cobalt skirt from the left most half of the belt. Thicker boots take place of Athena’s leather ones.

          Finally, long streaks of dark blue grow miraculously into Athena’s long chestnut locks.

          “Jackie? What’s the issue?”

          Miss Olympus yanks her hair up into a spiraling ponytail and settles her amber goggles over her eyes.

          “Jackie!”

          There’s a soft thud in her ear. “Sorry,” Jackieboy’s voice is slightly breathless. “Pixl was updating me.”

          “Okay. Where do we need to be?” Miss Olympus jogs to the end of the alleyway, glancing around her passerby.

          “City Bank. Eighth street.” The whooshing starts again, louder still. “Looking at robbery, _but_ we might be dealing with an Enhanced.”

          “Shit,” Miss Olympus breathes.

          “Exactly. You on your way?”

          “Yep.” Taking off in the direction of Eighth; Miss Olympus starts to focus her power. “Going beast. _Don’t_ start anything ‘til I get there, okay?”

          “Aye, aye.”

          Needing no further confirmation, Miss Olympus leaps. She releases her focus and, in her place, a cobalt owl takes off in the direction of City Bank.

 

          Jackieboy Man listens to the soft click of Miss Olympus signing off, followed by the faint sound of flapping wings. Miss Olympus would be quiet in his ear until she got closer. She couldn’t speak in animal form, and Jackieboy certainly couldn’t understand owl.

          Jackieboy reaches out, sending out his next system of green slime. It splatters against the edge of a nearby building and sticks. Gripping the end, he swings from the slime. The momentum pulls Jackieboy through the air.

          “You and Miss O should hurry. They’re getting ready to leave soon,” the voice in his ear is familiar.

          Pixl is tapped into the City’s surveillance systems. He gives Jackieboy his information. He’s Jackieboy’s man in the chair. Without him, Jackieboy would just wander around the city.

          Yanking himself sideways around a building, Jackieboy finally swings up onto the side of a building across from the City Bank. Police cars are already parked around the entrance, with cops standing outside. Using some of his green slime, Jackieboy climbs a little closer.

          He can hear the shouting from here. His enhanced hearing picks up civilians’ screams with ease. Miss Olympus ought to hurry. This could go south rather quickly.

          “How many we looking at?” Jackieboy asks aloud.

          “Five?” Pixl replies. There’s a clattering of keyboard strokes. “Yeah, five. There’s about ten hostages. All five are armed. You’ve got one teller held at gunpoint.”

          “Oh, shit.”

          “Uh, huh. Oh, shit, is right.”

          Jackieboy squints in the direction of the bank as his ears pick up the very distinct flap of nearby wings. His hood shields his eyes from the sun when he glances up. A big cobalt barn owl swoops around the side of the building. It settles itself down on the eave of the roof.

          Jackieboy grins up at the bird. It turns large silver eyes on him that blink one at a time before the owl screeches at him.

          “Hello to you, too,” Jackieboy says.

          Within one blink and the next, the owl vanishes. Miss Olympus crouches upon the roof. Her golden goggles are already pulled down over her eyes. Her gaze is trained on the bank.

          “Five. Armed. Hostages. Gunpoint,” she murmurs softly.

          “Mm-hm.”

          “Right. The smart thing to do would be to wait for them to exit. Ambush them right there. Police get their arrest, easy.”

          Crawling closer, Jackieboy cocks his head at his friend. “But?”

          “But, I’m not sure.”

          Miss Olympus’s gaze is hazy. Even behind her golden goggles, Jackieboy can see her troubled gaze. Her eyes are normally sharp and determined. But now her gaze seems shadowed and preoccupied.

          “You all right, Miss O?” Jackie finds himself asking.

          The woman’s gaze stays trained on the bank below. It’s almost as if she didn’t hear him. Her entire body language feels vacant

          “Miss Olympus?” Jackie tries again.

          She’s still for another moment yet before she blinks and turns to him. She frowns, and her silver eyes are still vacant, but then her lips’ edges tilt upwards. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

          “Yep, sorry, brain’s a little fried today?” Miss Olympus’s laugh is hollow. “I’m okay.”

          Jackieboy’s not convinced, but he doesn’t say anymore as Miss Olympus stands up. He climbs until he’s standing next to her.

          “Ambush it is. They’re coming out,” she murmurs.

          Without another word, Miss Olympus steps off the roof’s edge. Only a few feet down, she turns back into her owl form. The little bird plummets toward the pavement below. Right before it should splatter all over the road, the cobalt owl shudders again and when Miss Olympus touches the ground once more, she stands on two legs again.

          Jackieboy quickly follows after her.

          “Superhero landing,” he mutters as he bounces back from the balls of his feet.

          From where they stand in the empty street, the heroes can hear the nervous shuffle of the police. Of course, their arrival would put some tension in the air. A few of the cops even turn to face them, raising steady handed guns their way.

          Without even seeing her face, Jackieboy can already tell Miss Olympus is rolling her eyes. She holds her hands up sarcastically as she marches toward the police line. Her boots click loudly in the quiet between them.

          “Don’t shoot. We’re here to help,” Miss Olympus calls out as she walks. Only Jackieboy’s enhanced hearing lets him catch her muttered, “morons,” under her breath.

          He’s quick on her heels as she marches toward the barricade. Something feels incredibly _off_ about Miss O today, and, honestly, it worries him. She’s much more pessimistic than normal.

          The police lower their guns, but the tension still hangs heavy in the air. With every step the heroes take, that tension grows. They don’t trust them.

          “They’re not relaxing,” Pixl whispers in Jackieboy’s ear. “And neither is _she_.”

          “I know,” Jackieboy mutters. “And the baddies?”

          There’s some soft clicking in his ear and then Pixl responds.

          “They’ve…gotten word of you two. They’re heading out into the back alleyway.”

          Jackieboy is already in motion as Pixl finishes his last words. He’s already extending his arm, preparing a slime stream. Aiming for the closest rooftop, he shouts over to Miss Olympus.

          “Miss O! They’re escaping out the back alley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Gregg is who you think it is. :P


	3. Unfocused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is very wrong with Miss Olympus.

          While those words spur Jackieboy Man into action, Miss Olympus feels her ever muscle freeze. Her body locks up and the tension in her temple that had vanished with the appearance of Miss Olympus comes back full force.

          The hero in her forces her to stay on her feet, even as an anguished scream threatens to crawl from her throat. _No_. She has a job to do. The City relies on her. Pushing that scream into her chest, Miss Olympus casts her focus to the sky once more.

          Her form shrinks again. This time, an agile falcon shoots away from where she’d been. With only a few flaps of her midnight wings, she’s nearly caught up with Jackieboy. Just below her quickly swinging friend, Miss Olympus spots their prey.

          Five shabbily dressed figures sprint down the tin alleyway. Most are wearing grimy, heavy hoodies. Hiding their faces from their pursuers.

          _Easy pickings._

          Miss Olympus glides closer. She hovers briefly over the thinnest of the figures. She could easily drop her falcon form and tackle the perp.

          _Easy pickings_.

          Jackieboy swings lower as well. They always work in tandem. He likely had his own plan to stop a few of the baddies. Likely a _sticky_ plan.

          Gathering her focus, Miss Olympus visualizes growing into her human form. She can easily see the moment her wings would vanish, and she would drop from the sky. It’s almost child’s play.

          But in the very moment she goes to release her focus, pain flares across her temples. If she were human, she would have gripped the sides of her head and screamed. It is like nails driving into her psyche.

          Without realizing it, a screech comes flying from her beak. Her form shudders, struggling to stay cohesive. Her focus is slipping.

          The robbers look up at the sound of the falcon’s cry. Noticing their company, they begin to run faster. Above her, Jackieboy curses softly. In between one slime stream and the next, Jackieboy fires three bubbles of slime down at the robbers. His aim is near flawless as the slime splatters completely around the ankles of the three robbers.

          Three down.

          Finally, Miss Olympus gets her brain back under control. With a small shake of her head, her falcon form finally vanishes. The small blue bird shrinks until it disappears before Miss Olympus’ human form pops back into existence. Gravity quickly takes over and she falls toward the pavement.

          Her enhanced senses allow her to plan her trajectory. She can easily see herself landing squarely upon one of the perps’ backs. Effectively, tackling it would leave only one criminal left to stop.

          It’s mere seconds she’s falling, but time seems to slow for Miss Olympus. She turns enough so that her boots will collide solidly with her prey’s back. The figure is thin enough that Miss Olympus should have no trouble knocking them down.

          Time seems to resume as Miss Olympus’s boots thud into the hooded figure. The perp goes down like a sack of spuds, causing Miss Olympus to stumble. Her momentum pulls her up and over the downed baddie.

          A quick, telltale _THWIP_ lets Miss Olympus know that Jackieboy has immobilized the figure beneath her. So, she rights herself. Ignoring the way the world briefly spins, she takes off after the last robber. That pain flares behind her eyes. She squints to fight the blurriness wavering just beyond her goggles’ amber lenses. Her feet, usually nearly able to move on their own, take up all her concentration.

          She shouldn’t have trouble keeping up with the final baddie, but for some reason it slips further and further away.

          _Why can’t she catch up?_

          Miss Olympus tries to shift her focus to a creature faster than the human body. But as her mind reels, running through her repertoire, the headache slams into her psyche. It’s like a truck bashing directly into her skull.

          Her knees buckle, and she crashes to her hands and knees. Only her gloves save her from scraping her hands to shit. She fights back the cry of pain that tries to escape her.

          She hears more than sees Jackieboy swing over her prone form. The world vanishes for a moment as Miss Olympus shuts her eyes. Everything feels muted behind the pain in her brain.

 

          “Miss O?”

          There’s a hand shaking her shoulder. When did she black out? What…what happened?

          “Miss Olympus? Hey. C’mon, wake up.”

 

          Jackieboy Man tosses slime around the last robber’s torso and legs. The man falls flat on his face with a thud on the concrete. Lightly landing back on the ground, Jackie already has his finger on the little black node in his ear.

          “Pixl? Please inform the authorities that the criminals have been apprehended.”

          “And what of Miss Olympus?” His friend responds.

          Jackieboy glances back at the woman in question. His heart involuntarily constricts a little. She’s knelt down with her head clutched in a white-knuckle grip. Her eyes are shut tight, blocking out the world. Is she… trembling?

          Jackieboy sighs. “I don’t know. I need to get her out of here though.”

          “Good luck,” Pixl murmurs, and Jackieboy can tell he means it.

          Straightening his shoulders, he approaches Miss Olympus.

          “Miss O?”

          She doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even seem to hear him. Her limbs continue to shiver and she presses her palms into her temples harder than before.

          He places a hand on her shoulder, shaking it gently. She only barely stirs beneath his fingertips.

          “Miss Olympus? Hey. C’mon, wake up.”

          Her silver eyes blink open slowly as her hands fall away from her skull. Her brows are still furrowed beneath her colored bangs. For a moment, she stares at his feet. Then her hands are moving and she is pushing her goggles back up on her forehead.

          Finally, her eyes meet his.

          “You all right?” He asks before she can speak.

          If Jackieboy had been paying closer attention, he might have noticed the moment Miss Olympus closes off. Her eyes, previously wide and bright, harden and the silver in them grows stormy. The young woman pushes herself to her feet. She sways a little, but quickly steps away when he tries to offer a steadying hand.

          “Yeah, ‘m fine,” she mumbles.

          “Are you sure?” His gaze falls on the way her fingers and shoulders tremble. “You’re shaking.”

          Miss Olympus quickly crosses her arms over her chest. The stiff gesture helps to mask her shivers. She doesn’t fool Jackieboy though.

          He barrels on despite her frown. “You seemed unfocused during the chase. You almost missed that guy.”

          Jackieboy’s gaze snaps to the prone forms on the pavement behind her. Her eyes dart for a second to the last criminal; the one she almost let get away.

          “I’m fine.” Her voice is hard.

          They both turn to face the alleyway’s opening as the sound of the footsteps start to echo their way off the walls. In the momentary break of focus, Miss Olympus steps around Jackieboy and vanishes. Before he can turn and call out to her, she takes her owl form and flies up out of the alleyway. With his keen vision, there’s no missing the awkward stutter to the beat of her wings.

          Something is wrong.

          Without really thinking, Jackieboy takes off after his friend. It doesn’t take much for him to swing up onto the roof. Even as his boots touch down on the rooftop he is priming his next slime shoot. He doesn’t get very far though.

          Neither had Miss Olympus.

          She stood on the edge of the rooftop. Her back is to him. The gentle breeze ruffles the cobalt skirt around her legs as well as the long locks of her multicolored ponytail.

          Miss Olympus never liked to stand so out in the open in broad daylight.

          Something is definitely wrong.

          As Jackieboy watches, her hand comes up to touch her temple again. Her entire body tenses with the touch. She’s hurting.

          His footsteps ghost across the roof. He wants to help her. It’s in his nature. He can’t leave someone in pain. Especially not her.

          She doesn’t react as he gets closer. He can’t tell if she’s ignoring him or not.

          “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Jackieboy calls.

          Now, her shoulders tense. They rise up by her ears as her fingers drop from her head. His ears have no trouble picking up her response, even over the breeze.

          It’s quiet. “Please leave me be, Jackie.”

          He takes another step toward her. “You’re hurt. Let me help.”

          “You can’t.” Her voice is so _tiny_.

          “And why not?”

          At this point, Jackieboy is so close he could reach out and touch her. He keeps his hands to himself though. Something tells him Miss O wouldn’t exactly be appreciative of a friendly hug right now.

          This time he’s sure Miss Olympus is well aware of how close he is. Her shoulders seem to tense even further.

          “It’s not a physical hurt, Jackie.”

          “Let me try.”

          The only warning Jackieboy has is the way Miss Olympus’s hands become fists at her sides. He almost expects her to shift again and fly off. Instead though, the woman spins on her heel to face him.

          He’s pretty sure he’s never seen her eyes so stormy. They seem to flash like the lightning that accompanies clouds of that color. When she speaks, her voice is hard and snarling.

          “This isn’t something you can just fix with your positivity, Jackieboy!”

          Miss Olympus _never_ calls him Jackieboy. She has called him Jackie ever since they first met.

          Something is _very_ wrong.

          “Miss O…” he tries quietly.

          She sneers at him. Her bangs fall over her eyes, darkening them even further.

          “I can’t just _smile_ this fucking problem away. It’s. Not. That. Easy.”

          What is bothering her? Miss Olympus is quiet, unassuming. She doesn’t snap or yell. Even when fighting crime, she is a quiet determined, never angry for what she must do.

          This unnatural change in behavior is unsettling.

          Miss Olympus’s eyes dart across his face as her chest heaves. Her shoulders shiver still. All Jackieboy wants to do is wrap her in his arms and protect her from whatever is turning her into this caricature of herself.

          “I—”

          “What?” Miss Olympus spits, taking a menacing step closer. “No response? You can’t save everyone, Jackieboy Man. Face it.”

          “I just want to help,” Jackieboy finally says. He reaches a gloved hand out to her. “Please, let me help.”

          Miss Olympus’s lip quivers, but her gaze stays hard. “You. Can’t!”

          Jackieboy doesn’t get another chance to refute. Miss Olympus turns and dives off the roof. Moments later, a cobalt owl glides over the city skyline. For a brief second, Jackieboy considers following her, but something tells him that’s not a very smart idea.

          He sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand through his green poof. He did have work to do elsewhere.


	4. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't do to leave angry, now does it?

          _Stupid, fucking Jackie with his stupid, fucking positivity. He needed to grow up. He needed to see that a smile couldn’t fix everything._

 

          The headache still pounds full force against the insides of her skull. The intensity almost makes Miss Olympus wonder if it had gotten worse with the shrinking of her skull. Flying straight got harder and harder with each pulse of pain.

          Thankfully, she is mostly able to still find her way home. While her brain rattles loudly inside her skull, she dives through her open bedroom window. She waits only for the moment her body is inside the window to drop her concentration.

          Instead of landing gracefully in a smooth roll across the floor like she planned, Miss Olympus falls prone on the carpet. Her limbs feel heavy, every muscle is lax and limp.

          “Fuck,” she breathes to the empty room.

          Never before has she been so grateful she lives alone.

          She feels broken.

          _Angry_ and broken. She’s in so much pain. But it’s only noon. There’s so much day left. She can’t waste it. Athena needs to recuperate, because Miss Olympus might be needed again.

          Every fiber of her being screams out as she pushes herself to her feet. She stumbles through to the kitchenette. It certainly says something about how often she’s in a situation much like this when her hands automatically reach for the bottle of aspirin beside the refrigerator. Tucking the aspirin under her chin, she then digs through the freezer for an icepack. Finally, she grabs a water bottle from the counter.

          As she wanders back into her living room, she yanks on the band in her hair. Her ragged curls fall around her shoulders once more. With a weary hand, she presses a finger to her wristband.

          Then she is Athena once more.

          Her body feels heavy as she collapses on the sofa. She _should_ go back to class, but her heart’s just not in it. The pain in her skull would make any learning impossible; besides Gregg had her covered with notes. She could afford an hour or two to rest.

          Before she finally lets her head rest, Athena swallows a few aspirins. Her system will probably burn through the meds faster than she’d like, but she had no way to get painkillers strong enough to dull her perceptive senses. Despite knowing full well that sound will probably only make the pain worse, Athena settles her earbuds into her ears.

          A few clicks on her phone later and a familiar voice fills her ears.

          “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, laddies! My name is Jacksepticeye.”

          Even with the jackhammer in her skull, Athena finds herself smiling.

 

          “Today has been a weird ass day,” Jack mumbles.

          Even though his gaze is on his computer screens, he’s already listening for his friend’s reply. His fingers easily sweep where they need to. Setting up let’s plays is second nature at this point.

          “Sounds like it,” Robin chuckles, his audio crackling over Discord.

          “Like you’d think I’d be used to being Jackieboy by now. But there’s lines I can’t cross and stuff I can’t fix,” Jack says.

          Robin hums in agreement. “Well, you know great responsibility and all that.”

          Jack laughs then, finally. “Yeah, all right. I get it.” He pauses, booting up the game on his PC. “I don’t know. I just worry about Miss O and wish I could’ve helped more.”

          Robin doesn’t reply right away, but Jack can hear some clacking keyboard keys. Maybe Robin is going back over some of his Pixl files. Jack gives him another moment, continuing to finish his set up.

          “Yeah, she certainly seemed off today, didn’t she?” Robin finally says.

          “She’s never one to shout.”

          “Everyone has bad days though.”

          Jack sighs. He scrubs his face briefly. Everything is all set up. He’s just stalling time, because he and Robin can’t discuss Jackieboy Man stuff while recording. He knows he shouldn’t be letting this bother him so much. Miss Olympus is probably fine; she’s probably just having a bad day.

          “Maybe,” he murmurs. “She just looked like she was in so much pain. She wasn’t focused. She felt distant.”

          Robin hums. “Hmm, well, maybe keep an eye on her when you see her next.”

          “Yeah, I guess.”

          Jack’s words trail off. His gaze falls on the waveform of his audio. He sees straight through the rises and falls of the peaked blocks of sound. Time to put away Jackieboy and be Jack for a while.

          “All right. Let’s play some games.” He forces a grin on his face as he glances up at his reflection in the camera’s preview screen. When he’s satisfied with the sincerity of the grin, he swings his open hand in front of him. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, laddies! My name is Jacksepticeye, and welcome back to _Don’t Starve_! With Rob-o. We’re gonna try this thing again; I promise we’ve gotten better.”

          Jack lets himself fall into the routine of recording. His scattered thoughts and worries from earlier that morning drift away, replaced by laughs and quips, and the company of a good friend.

          Looking back, he’s very glad today seemed almost normal.

 

          The world is dark and quiet. Cold steel is hard against Athena’s back. Every single muscle in her body feels as if a literal inferno is coursing through them. Even with her enhanced vision, the darkness is impenetrable.

          _What_? _Where_?

          “’Thene?” A soft voice calls in the darkness.

          Athena freezes. _No_. Not _here_. Not now. She couldn’t fail them again. _No_.

          “It hurts,” another voice joins the first.

          “Help us.”

          “Save us.” More voices.

          “Save us.”

          “Save us.”

          The voices grow louder and louder. Seeming to come from inside her brain itself. They’re inside. They won’t get out. Failing them, she’s failing them. Always failing people.

          “I can’t. I can’t,” she murmurs.

          Her hands come up to clasp over her ears. Maybe it will block out the incessant voices. Voices trying to destroy her from the inside out.

          “Save us. You didn’t save us. Failed us. Failed us.”

          “ _Stop!_ ”

          Athena wrenches upright. Her earbud pops out and she’s left alone, with her chest heaving. After a few blinks, she recognizes the dark, but familiar confines of her apartment. She must have been out for ages if the house is this dark. Her phone sits face up on the floor; a familiar face frozen there. Athena feels her joints protest as she sits up.

          The aspirin has dulled her headache, but it’s still there pulsing in the back of her skull. Placing her head in her hands, she briefly shuts her eyes. For a moment, the darkness is comforting. A solid, silent blackness that envelopes her every sense.

          _Cold steel. Pale silver bars. Pain. Pain. Darkness. Alone._

          _No!_

          No. She won’t go back there. Not again. That is her past. Something Athena had buried deep behind her heart long ago. Why is it popping behind her eyelids now?

          Goosebumps break out across her arms at the thought.

          _No_. No, we’re not thinking about it anymore.

           Glancing up at the clock on the wall, Athena pushes herself to her feet. She swallows two more aspirin as she meanders back toward the bathroom. She could really use a shower. Maybe the hot water will clean her brain too.

          Then, however briefly, Jackieboy pops into her head. She wonders what he’s up to. Was he upset with her? Why had she snapped at him? He had just been trying to help. As he always did.

          Why didn’t she let him in?

          A stabbing pain in her skull forces the thoughts from her brain. Ugh, Athena couldn’t wait to get back to bed.


End file.
